Moth. Why, sir, is this such a piece of study? Now here
is three studied, ere ye'll thrice wink: and how
easy it is to put 'years' to the word 'three,' and
355study three years in two words, the dancing horse
will tell you.

Don Adriano de Armado. I will hereupon confess I am in love: and as it is
360base for a soldier to love, so am I in love with a
base wench. If drawing my sword against the humour
of affection would deliver me from the reprobate
thought of it, I would take Desire prisoner, and
ransom him to any French courtier for a new-devised
365courtesy. I think scorn to sigh: methinks I should
outswear Cupid. Comfort, me, boy: what great men
have been in love?

Moth. If she be made of white and red,
Her faults will ne'er be known,
For blushing cheeks by faults are bred
400And fears by pale white shown:
Then if she fear, or be to blame,
By this you shall not know,
For still her cheeks possess the same
Which native she doth owe.
405A dangerous rhyme, master, against the reason of
white and red.

Moth. The world was very guilty of such a ballad some
three ages since: but I think now 'tis not to be
410found; or, if it were, it would neither serve for
the writing nor the tune.

Don Adriano de Armado. I will have that subject newly writ o'er, that I may
example my digression by some mighty precedent.
Boy, I do love that country girl that I took in the
415park with the rational hind Costard: she deserves well.

Dull. Sir, the duke's pleasure is, that you keep Costard
safe: and you must suffer him to take no delight
425nor no penance; but a' must fast three days a week.
For this damsel, I must keep her at the park: she
is allowed for the day-woman. Fare you well.

Costard. Nay, nothing, Master Moth, but what they look upon.
It is not for prisoners to be too silent in their
words; and therefore I will say nothing: I thank
God I have as little patience as another man; and
460therefore I can be quiet.

[Exeunt MOTH and COSTARD]

Don Adriano de Armado. I do affect the very ground, which is base, where
her shoe, which is baser, guided by her foot, which
is basest, doth tread. I shall be forsworn, which
465is a great argument of falsehood, if I love. And
how can that be true love which is falsely
attempted? Love is a familiar; Love is a devil:
there is no evil angel but Love. Yet was Samson so
tempted, and he had an excellent strength; yet was
470Solomon so seduced, and he had a very good wit.
Cupid's butt-shaft is too hard for Hercules' club;
and therefore too much odds for a Spaniard's rapier.
The first and second cause will not serve my turn;
the passado he respects not, the duello he regards
475not: his disgrace is to be called boy; but his
glory is to subdue men. Adieu, valour! rust rapier!
be still, drum! for your manager is in love; yea,
he loveth. Assist me, some extemporal god of rhyme,
for I am sure I shall turn sonnet. Devise, wit;
480write, pen; for I am for whole volumes in folio.